The Crusher Conclusion
by Lionne6
Summary: A loose collection of one shots about how even something as simple as watching TV takes on a unique quality when it's done Shamy-style.
1. Shut up, Wesley

Dr. Leonard Hofstadter shifted into reverse, sliding a look at his best friend and fellow passenger, Dr. Sheldon Cooper, before simply backing out of his parking spot without even checking his mirrors. He shifted into drive, turned the steering wheel, and began to pull out of the parking lot, looking sidelong at his friend twice more as he drove. Sheldon was wearing his red Flash tee-shirt because it was Friday, with a blue shirt underneath it and a garish pair of green plaid pants. Leonard didn't think anything about his fashion choices made sense that day, but then Leonard figured his recycling tee-shirt, maroon hoodie and the red pants he was borrowing from Penny might not have been making much of a statement that day either. He took the corner of his hoodie and placed the maroon fabric against the cherry pants, wondering what his girlfriend meant about his inability to mix reds, but then shrugged and looked back at the road.

Leonard was simply glad it was Friday and he didn't have to work tomorrow. He heaved a small sigh, remembering that Penny had picked up a shift for a friend and would be working a double. He would miss seeing her on a Saturday, but at the moment, Leonard definitely felt he had more pressing matters on his hands and it was time to figure out just how bad the situation was.

After entering into traffic, Leonard deliberately dropped his hands from the Department of Motor Vehicles recommended 10 and 2 hold position on the steering wheel and completely let go with one hand, resting his right elbow on the center console and letting his hand hang from the wrist. He lazily brushed the fingertips of his left hand along the leather curve of the steering wheel to the bottom and relaxed into this position, barely holding on as he drove straight down the long road of Colorado boulevard.

He waited.

After driving this way for an astonishing ten seconds in total silence, Leonard flipped on his turn signal and pulled over to the side of the road, parking on the edge of the boulevard behind a gold Honda.

"Okay," Leonard said, "I don't know what is going on, but you are freaking me out. Spill it, Sheldon."

"Leonard," Sheldon weakly protested, reaching up to rub his fingertips across his temple.

"In the last 20 minutes, I have used improper grammar, been unable to reach the top shelf of my bookcase to reference a point I'm stuck on in my current project, used every incorrect, sloppy driving procedure I could think of, and then even commented that I thought the new shade of pink they are using for the walls of the Science library are not just calming and appealing, but made me feel a little like a beautiful fairytale princess. And you? All you did was pull the book off the shelf for me, fail to either correct me or insult me, and note that I'd probably make a rather fetching Belle."

Sheldon turned to Leonard, listening. He waited for a few seconds, and then inquired softly, "So?"

"So," Leonard drawled, "When are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Sheldon replied flatly.

Leonard spoke firmly, stressing his point, "I gave you an opportunity to insult my height. You didn't take it. What is happening to you?"

Sheldon swallowed, and fidgeted in his seat. He looked out the windshield, and then shrugged his shoulders and said, "The University is so pleased with the results of the work Kripke and I have done that they indicated they want us to do more work together in the future."

Leonard pondered that, and then said slowly, "Well, we can figure out a way to handle that, Sheldon. You've done just fine wi–"

Sheldon suddenly let out a sob and buried his face in his hands, "And I broke my train!"

Leonard paused, furrowing his brow. "Wait...what?"

"I was playing with it last night and I didn't put it away before bed like my Mommy told me I should and when I woke up this morning I stepped on it and I broke it!" Sheldon doubled over, holding his face in his hands and continuing to sniffle. "You should have heard the little crunch, Leonard. It's been haunting me all day. I'll never forget the sound of that little teeny tiny crunch! My poor little train!" With that, Sheldon began crying in earnest.

Leonard watched Sheldon for a moment, and then looked into his lap and tried to stay stoic. He was unable. He reached across the car and patted Sheldon softly on the shoulder twice. "There, there." He turned his head to watch the traffic whizzing by, resting his hand on Sheldon's shoulder and keeping it there. "Do you want me to take you to the train store?"

"No, I don't want to go to the train store!" Sheldon jerked himself upright and glared at Leonard, who let his hand fall away. "How can you ask me if I want to go to the train store?! I can't even bare to LOOK at a train right now!" He sniffled once, "I know you're very socially handicapped, Leonard, but please try to show at least a modicum of sensitivity."

"Fine," Leonard said, heaving a deep breath and trying to stay sedate, "Why don't I take you to the comic book store?"

"Oh," Sheldon said, sinking back in his seat, "Well, the comic book store might be nice." He sniffled once, and opened the glove compartment to get at his stash of tissues. "I don't know if there are enough comic books, action figures and memorabilia lunch boxes to soothe the sorrow in my heart...but we can try."

Leonard nodded, noting, "And we can go through the Starbucks drive thru and pick up some hot chocolate for you too, buddy."

"Thank you, Leonard," Sheldon said in a low voice, starting to pull himself together. He pulled out a tissue and patted the corner of his eye with it. "I'm glad you remembered that March is a month with an "r" in it." He paused and then added, "It's a relief that you still know how to spell, even if you did use 'different from' when you meant 'different than' when speaking with Dr. Gablehauser today."

"Hopefully, Dr. Gablehauser will overlook it," Leonard replied as he pulled back into traffic, returning his grip on the wheel to the proper 10 and 2 position which Sheldon would never normally let him deviate from.

"Like Dr. Gablehauser would know the difference," Sheldon murmured in reply.

* * *

When they got home from the comic book store, Radio Shack, and the grocery store, Leonard began to put the groceries away in the fridge with Sheldon helping him by pointing out how he was doing it incorrectly. Leonard started to rearrange them alphabetically when Sheldon interrupted to let him know he had changed the system to reflect their vitamin C content, and somewhere around then it had devolved into bickering over where to put the ginger snap cookies if the Batman cookie jar was strictly reserved for double stuff Oreos even though they didn't have any Oreos at that time, which Leonard pointed out was Sheldon's fault for not picking them up, but Sheldon claimed he should not have anticipated that was necessary as Leonard had foregone picking up any of his lactose-free almond milk, and who wanted Oreos in the apartment if you didn't have milk to dunk them in?

They were still heatedly discussing which one of them had eaten the last Oreo when there was a knock on the door. Sheldon moved across the room, noting sternly to Leonard, "Don't forget my eidetic memory,_ sir_. You ate the last one at 10:54 last Sunday night because you were upset about the recent developments on Once Upon a Time–and don't tell me that was just a coincidence. You think I don't know what you watch when it's past my bedtime, but I hear you crying out here over Snow and Charming."

With that, Sheldon opened the door, looking down into the faces of his girlfriend, Amy Farrah Fowler, and Leonard's current girlfriend, Penny. They were each carrying a large bag of take-out food. While Penny was smiling a little bit, Amy looked neutral, she didn't even have a smile for him, which was unusual, and after only glancing at his face she turned her eyes down to stare at the floor.

"Actually, his favorite character is Rumpelstiltskin," Penny said.

"Leonard, is that true?" Sheldon stepped back to open the door wider, allowing both girls inside. He looked down at Amy, studying her closely as she walked by him. He then looked at Penny, who had stayed behind.

"I don't know what any of you are talking about," Leonard replied, studying the package of ginger snaps with suspiciously intense concentration.

"Of course you don't, sweetie," Penny said, smiling a little, although she was watching Amy, who had gone to the kitchen island and put her bag down on it, leaned her side against the counter and was looking down at its wooden top, her face hidden by the veil of her brunette hair. Penny tapped Sheldon on the shoulder, and pointed at Amy, even as she said at the same time, "Leonard, honey, how'd you like to come on a little dinner date with me tonight?"

"Tonight? Don't you have a double shift tomorrow?" Leonard looked up from the cookies, and caught some little gestures that Penny was trying to make for Sheldon's sake at Amy, who continued to stare downwards, toying absently with her nails. "Oh," Leonard said, looking between Amy and then Sheldon and Penny. "Um, sure, Penny. Some alone time with you would be great."

"Are you trying to learn sign language? Because if so, people usually use both hands for that," Sheldon told Penny, frowning as he watched her draw her finger from her eye down her cheek, and then point at Amy.

Penny sighed, and then went on tiptoe and whispered in Sheldon's ear, "Your girlfriend is upset. Take care of her."

Sheldon's eyes widened, and he looked over at Amy with something like both terror and concern, and then back at Penny as she backed into the hallway. He spread his arms open, mouthing, "What do I DO?"

Penny lifted her hands and made little pinching gestures, miming the idea of talking, and then pointed urgently towards Amy again. She reached over and took Leonard by the sleeve of his hoodie, pulling him back towards her apartment. Leonard patted Sheldon on the shoulder and murmured, "Good luck, buddy," and then left, closing the door behind him.

Sheldon looked at the closed door and then back at Amy and ran his hand through his hair, frowning. Amy looked around the floor and then up at him, something in her face both sad and yet hopeful. Sheldon was contemplating any course of action he could think of and coming up blank when the phone rang. He held up a hand to Amy, asking her to wait, and then practically dove for it.

"Cooper/Hofstadter residence," he said, "Go for Cooper." A pause, and then he said, "Hello Dr. Gablehauser. Yes. Yes, I agree." After a long pause, Sheldon suddenly sat down in his spot on the couch, going even paler than normal. Amy's forehead wrinkled, and she decided to get down some plates and start unwrapping the Chinese food, listening to Sheldon's side of the conversation as she did so. She put the kettle on, listening as Sheldon's assents became more terse, more clipped.

"And if I disagree to this course of action because I have better things to do?" Sheldon finally asked, waiting for a pause before answering, "No, I do not want a thorough review of my budget looking for miscellaneous wastes of money, but I want you to know that that expensive bird seed is a mandatory purchase. It's the only thing that the mockingbird that lives outside of my office will eat, and it's only as long as I feed him that he'll sing on key." A pause. "Yes, well, the bird and I worked this out." A pause. "Yes, the bird. I had no choice. I can't work when he's singing out of tune with Professor Snider's wind chimes." Another pause, "Yes, I understand." He put his elbow on one knee and buried his face in his hand, repeating the word, "Yes," several times, his voice getting softer and softer as he did so. Finally he simply said, "Yes, good evening, Dr. Gablehauser. I'll see you Monday."

With that he hung up the phone. Amy glanced at him from her place on a stool in the kitchen. All of the food and drink and silverware was arranged in front of her, and she just perched there, silently waiting. Sheldon looked up at her, and then slowly rose to his feet and came to join her, sitting down on the stool opposite.

"I got your favorite," Amy said, her own voice very subdued. She picked up a pair of chopsticks and started pushing food around her plate moodily.

Sheldon said, "Thank you," and then proceeded to do the same, and they sat that way for several minutes, both of them staring into their plates and toying with their food without taking a bite.

Finally, Sheldon and Amy lifted their heads and started in at the same time, "I have to do a lecture series at the Univeristy–someone stole my lunch out of the refrigerator even though I put my name and a note on it–with Barry Kripke–my favorite monkey died today–over 200 patchouli wearing idiot grad students–idiots? Two idiots smoking in the bathroom set off the alarm detectors and ruined 3 months worth of work for my whole department–I'm going to either faint or end up with no pants!"

Both of them finished in unison, panting for breath. Amy's lower lip was trembling, and Sheldon's eyes suddenly filled up with tears. He whispered, "And I broke my train."

Amy looked back at Sheldon for a long moment, and then glanced over at the TV set. She bit her lower lip and tried to collect herself, hunching her shoulders more than usual. She felt her own eyes get watery, and her vision turned blurry. She took her glasses off, folding them up and putting them next to her plate. "I guess you probably want to take your food to your spot and watch some Star Wars-Trek-something for awhile." She tried to wipe away her tears inconspicuously with the tip of her finger.

Sheldon tried to daub away his own tears with the sleeve of his tee-shirt, although he glanced towards the box of tissues and seemed to debate going to get some. He glanced at his TV and then his spot, and looked uncertainly back at Amy. Rubbing his nose with his arm once like a little boy, he murmured back, "Yes." He studied her and then guessed, "I suppose you'd probably like to cuddle and listen to some god-awful Baroque harp music?"

The two of them exchanged a long awkward glance, both of their eyes still shiny and their noses turning red. Amy couldn't really see Sheldon clearly, and she considered his comment, then nodded once, "Well, yes."

Sheldon reached out for his mug of tea, his fingers closing around it in a death grip. He pulled it forward and just stared down into its contents intently as his knuckles turned white.

Amy tried to wait him out, but her lower lip only started to tremble harder and her vision was growing blurrier and it wasn't just from the lack of her glasses. She made one feeble attempt, pushing around a dumpling on her plate with her chopsticks and noting, "You know…I…I never watched that DVD box set you gave me. Of the…" Amy had to think about it, "Star Trek. Stuff."

"Next Generation," Sheldon mumbled, maintaining the death grip on his mug.

"Right," Amy said, nodding a little.

Sheldon didn't reply, he simply stared at his weak reflection in his cup of tea, not moving a muscle.

Amy slowly pushed back her stool and went to her feet, whispering, "Well, I suppose I'll be going home." She went to reach for her glasses.

Without letting go of his mug, without even looking up, Sheldon's other hand suddenly darted out so quick it blurred the air, snapping up her glasses. He held them out of her reach and didn't look up from the depths of his mug once. Amy tried to snatch one hand at her glasses, but Sheldon only held them higher, and even sitting on his stool he was still that much taller than her that she knew she couldn't get them. Frowning, Amy crossed her arms over her stomach tightly and tried to calm her trembling lower lip. "Sheldon, give those back. You probably don't understand this concept, but I need them to be able to drive, and I want to go home."

Finally, Sheldon broke his concentration on his tea, reached up and wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve, and, most remarkably, opened her glasses and put them on his own face. He pulled them down the length of his nose, placed his elbows on the kitchen counter, steepled his fingers and rested his lips against his forefingers. Soberly, he peered up at her over the dark rims and held her in a long stare.

In the blurry edges of her uncorrected vision, Sheldon's deep blue eyes seemed to be the only points of focus in the whole world, and despite herself, Amy caught her breath and gazed back.

"Proposal," Sheldon said.

* * *

The world had taken on a certain stillness, and Leonard hated to break it, but he knew that Penny had work the next day while he was looking forward to being able to sleep in. The clock said it was only 11, but it had been a long day and if he didn't leave now he would end up falling asleep there with her. He slowly stroked Penny's shoulder for the last time, listening to her slow breathing, and then tried to extricate his arm as gently as possible.

"Where are you going?" Penny breathed, quick enough on the uptake to indicate she had never really been asleep.

Leonard leaned over and kissed her temple before pulling away, "I'm going to go check on Sheldon. Sleep in my own bed. You have a long day tomorrow."

Penny murmured a little, reached for his arm and caressed it without opening her eyes. Their bodies slid apart, but just as Leonard was about to break the connection, Penny caught his hand in hers and pressed her fingertips into his palm for several seconds before letting go. Leonard smiled and picked up his pants from the floor, turning to locate his tee-shirt and get dressed. Even though he didn't know it and did not see it, Penny's eyes cracked open just enough to watch him through her lashes. When he padded out into the hallway, whispering, "Goodnight, Penny," she smiled to herself, rolled over and took his pillow, hugging it to her cheek. She inhaled deeply once, and then let herself be given over to the sweet cocoon of sleep.

Leonard draped his hoodie over his shoulder like a towel and carried his shoes out into the hall. He went for the door, but then changed his mind and reversed course, going into Penny's kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from one of her upper shelves and brought it down, heaving a deep sigh as he murmured, "One shot for Sheldon, the rest for me."

With that decided, he left Penny's and crossed the hall to his own door, noting as he approached it that he could see the flash of the television lights from the crack at the bottom, and somehow he just knew that Sheldon was sitting there in the dark watching Star Trek, and Leonard's stomach did a small flip at the thought of what he might find when he entered. He knew Sheldon had had a long, hard day, and he couldn't imagine how bad it might have gone trying to comfort Amy through the crisis Penny had been describing to him, and he felt a little guilty not to have been there for his friend but also a little relieved to have avoided it, and then of course he realized he felt even more guilty for feeling relieved.

Leonard squared his shoulders and braced himself, reaching for the doorknob to his apartment and walking straight in. As he had predicted, the apartment was dark, but what he saw revealed in the light of the television made Leonard stop cold and stare.

Their large comfortable chair had been pushed across the living room, directly in front of the TV. Sitting in it, wearing his gold Lieutenant Data Star Trek costume, was Sheldon, and in Sheldon's arms was Amy, wearing her blue medical Star Trek dress and black boots, her legs crossed over his thighs, her dark head sleeping soundly on his shoulder. He held her casually around the waist, the remote control balanced on the arm of the chair, his eyes focused on the TV screen. One of Leonard's favorite episodes of _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ was playing, and the flickering light of the television bathed their entwined figures in a soft blue glow.

Sheldon tore his gaze from the television to look up at Leonard. Although there was no other change in his expression, his eyes were alive and shining. In the storm of questions which bombarded Leonard's mind about what he was seeing, one truth stood out clearly among them all: Sheldon was happy.

The two men stood there looking at each other, sharing volumes of an unspoken conversation, and then Leonard's lips turned into a tiny conspiratorial smile, and Sheldon smiled right back him the same way. Leonard turned and shut the door quietly, and went to cross behind Sheldon towards the hall, but he reached down to put his hand warmly on Sheldon's shoulder in passing. To his surprise, he felt Sheldon reach up and clasp his hand. Leonard stopped, looked down and cocked his eyebrow curiously at his friend. Sheldon looked up and met his eye, and then turned his glance to Leonard's desk chair for a meaningful beat, and then he looked back up at Leonard and lifted both eyebrows wordlessly.

Leonard's smile turned into a God's honest grin.

* * *

The words "Data" and "Lore" had been penetrating Amy's mind for a few seconds before she realized she was waking up peacefully to the sound of the television, which she couldn't remember leaving on. From the warm and tranquil way she felt, she knew she had been asleep for a long time, and she lifted her head suddenly when it hit her that she definitely wasn't at home in her own bed. She opened her eyes and realized she wasn't wearing her glasses, but she could still see the tips of her black boots and the fuzzy glow of the television in front of her. Things began to click into place when she made out Sheldon's knees under hers, and curiously an extra pair of feet propped up on an upside down trashcan next to their chair. She followed the shiny black shoes up a pair of black clad legs, and found Leonard in his red Captain Picard Star Trek uniform, sitting in his desk chair immediately to Sheldon's right with a pile of ginger snap cookies on a napkin in his lap. He looked up at her as she blinked back at him in surprise, and gave her what seemed to be a warm, if rather fuzzy, wink.

"Shhhh," Sheldon murmured, reaching for the remote and turning the volume down a notch. He put the remote back down and then dropped his gaze to look into her eyes. Casually, as if he had done so all his life, Sheldon placed a quick but infinitely tender kiss on her mouth and whispered, "Go back to sleep."

Amy blinked as Sheldon went back to watching TV. She looked across at Leonard again, and noted that his jaw was hanging open. After a moment she simply shrugged at him, rested her head back on Sheldon's shoulder, and immediately fell asleep again. After her eyes closed, the hint of a playful smile turned Sheldon's lips upwards, and his eyes took on the same shining gleam as before.

Leonard's jaw dropped open even further, and he threw up his arms to the ceiling even as Captain Jean-Luc Picard's voice cracked from the TV:

"SHUT UP, WESLEY!"

* * *

*Hat tip*

- Lionne Lovegood


	2. I'm Sherlocked

My own way of participating in Shamy Appreciation Week. Even though that's something I typically do year round. Hope you enjoy. - Lio

* * *

For the majority of his career, indeed, the majority of his life, Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper, Theoretical Physicist extraordinaire, had been able to see and understand concepts beyond the comprehension of others. Sometimes, his perception of the universe and all it contained, the things he could see in his mind, was so strong and powerful he could almost taste them, see them complete and operational more clearly than what was actually real. He had mastered mathematics and physics so that he could speak in the language of the cosmos, give his ideas life, explain the mysteries of the universe, create their theoretical boundaries and definitions.

He lifted his hand to the white board and tried to focus on the last touches to the idea he had been working on for the past month. The trick was always turning what was in his mind into the real world; to fluidly forge that complex path between the head and the hand, to make sure nothing was lost in the translation. It had taken a lifetime of discipline, hard work, and practice to bridge that mysterious gap between his imagination and reality, to build up the invisible muscle of his immense intellect. Determined to focus on his work, Sheldon flexed that muscle which time and discipline had given Herculean strength. In response, the ideas and images came at his command: stars, satellites, metals, and invisible waves spinning through his cerebral cortex, running through his veins, their truth distilled in his heart. Even though his hand blurred as it flew across the board, decoding and transcribing, his physical form still felt too slow to keep up.

Several times he stepped back to survey his work, and then he returned to the board again. When he ran out of room he simply jumped to the white board on his wall and continued until the language of symbols and numbers had spoken, the concept clear, at least to him. Perhaps it was worded without elegance for now, but he would clean that up later. His work was to his liking, and Sheldon exhaled a deep breath of satisfaction tinged with slight fatigue. It had been a long month working on this particular idea, and he was looking forward to his weekend; a time to digest this week's revelations, plan his workload for the week ahead, and yes, even allow himself some time of pleasantry and socialization with his friends and, best of all, his girlfriend.

Sheldon paused to check his phone, hoping against hope that his period of intense concentration had led him to missing the little trill of beeps that would indicate an incoming message from her. He noted it had been three hours since he last checked, so logically there must be something new. He swiped his finger across the screen and saw there was...nothing. Despite the bars indicating he had full service, he paced to the window and held it up one corner and then another, but the phone's status never changed.

_Drat._

Sheldon felt a slight pang to his pride when he texted her once again: _Amy, are you coming over for dinner tonight? It's been four days since I last saw you._

He erased the last sentence, suspecting that pointing out the length of time since they last laid eyes on each other might signal a certain amount of neediness on his part. He looked at the question which remained. It seemed so simple and banal a query, but it was what he wanted to ask. So he pressed send and put the phone back down, turning back to his white boards and the language which sometimes felt more native to him than English itself.

Just the sight of the symbols and numbers, and thought of the concepts they represented, relaxed him.

When the phone suddenly trilled from his desk, Sheldon jumped in surprise. He abandoned his work and dove for the phone, smiling when he saw whom the message was from. His smile quickly vanished, though, when he saw her response: _Sorry Sheldon, I have other plans this evening. I'm just really, really busy. Let's get together later this weekend, or next week.  
_

_Next week?_ Sheldon felt as if he had been punched in the gut; a sensation he was particularly familiar with after being bullied most of his life. His emotional reflex was to suppress the feeling, and instead of processing his disappointment he focused instead on the double "really." It was not like Amy to use drivel when speaking, and particularly not in anything she wrote. He studied the message for awhile, and it struck him that she was being awfully vague about her plans. Plans with whom? Plans to do what? What or who were these mysterious events and people in Amy's life who could possibly be more important than him, and taking up so much of Amy's time?

The answer struck him immediately: Penny and Bernadette. Sheldon rolled his eyes and cursed, for what was precisely the six hundred and forty-eighth time, the day Leonard invited their blonde neighbor to lunch. Although he was fond of them, or at least had inexplicably come to be at some point in time he couldn't quite put his finger on, Penny and Bernadette were starting to cut into his time with Amy. He didn't appreciate the interruption to the equilibrium of their relationship's schedule.

He checked his watch, and noted that Leonard would come by in only a few minutes to pick him up for the drive home. So he took some photos of his white board with his phone, packed up the belongings he would be carrying with him, and then sat down at his computer and checked his watch again. He still had ten minutes to spare, so he absently opened his computer and clicked on Facebook. Amy's page had no new updates, so he clicked on her blog, and found nothing new there either. He checked Twitter and then Instagram, but Amy hadn't posted anything on either one recently. Perhaps she actually was "really, really" busy. He decided to check her tumblr just for the sake of amusement, even though Amy had hardly used it even during her Downton Abbey days.

To Sheldon's shock, Amy's tumblr had been updated. Indeed, it had been so recently with what appeared to be hundreds of pictures of Benedict Cumberbatch, the handsome Brit who was the latest incarnation of Sherlock Holmes on the BBC. She had posted 50 new pictures just that day.

Sheldon was forced to scroll through picture after picture of a tall, pale British idol with doll-like blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut paper. A few of the images Amy had posted made Sheldon confused and slightly uncomfortable. He tilted his head to the side, trying to understand what crime Sherlock and Watson could be solving while curled up on a bed in that particular position, one of them wearing nothing but red underwear, when a voice made him nearly leap out of his skin.

"Why are you looking at Sherlock porn?" Leonard inquired.

Sheldon grasped his desk like a terrified cat, panting slightly as he looked at Leonard with wide eyes. "I am not looking at porn!" he cried, "Sherlock or otherwise!"

Leonard looked at Sheldon, then the computer screen, and then back at Sheldon. He opened his mouth, and then closed it with a snap, murmuring to himself, "The things you get into if I am even two minutes late." He snapped his fingers and swept his arm towards the door, indicating it was time to be leaving, and said, "Come on, buddy, let's go. No more porn for you today."

Sheldon slammed his laptop closed, stuffed it into his beige canvas bag, and threw the strap over his shoulder even as he hurried towards the door. He said, "I am NOT looking at porn." He then spun on his heel and turned to leave his office.

"It was gay porn, actually," Leonard said, lifting his voice to call after Sheldon, "But no more gay porn today, Sheldon! Unless you eat all your vegetables! And remember to clean your room! And be a good boy!" As Sheldon got further away, long legs carrying him off in a brisk stride, Leonard closed Sheldon's office door. He cupped a hand around his mouth and yelled down the hallway, "Then you can watch porn all night long if you want!"

A door flew open across the hall, and a female research assistant stuck her head out, fixing Leonard in a withering glare. Leonard fumbled with his own satchel and said to her apologetically, "That wouldn't sound so bad if you had the proper context."

The woman huffed and slammed her office door shut in his face.

"I guess you don't care about context," Leonard said to the closed door. "Imagine that." He sighed and started to walk down the hall, calling out, "Sheldon! Wait up!"

* * *

Besides a short discussion which mostly consisted of Sheldon insisting he was not looking at porn until Leonard swore he believed him, neither had said a word on the drive home. Sheldon was completely fixated on his phone, tapping buttons in short, terse punches, his lips glued together in a thin line. Leonard was happy to let his thoughts drift elsewhere.

His reverie was broken when Sheldon spoke. "Leonard, both Penny and Bernadette assure me that they don't have plans with Amy tonight, and haven't seen her at all this week." The lanky scientist frowned even more deeply, looking up and staring ahead of him in puzzlement.

"I know, Penny and I have plans this evening. We're going to–" Leonard began.

"Yes, yes. That's not interesting now, nor has it ever been, nor will it ever be," Sheldon said, returning his attention to his phone when it trilled at him. He glanced at the screen, and then his hands dropped lifelessly into his lap. He went back to staring into space, his face unreadable. After a moment he roused himself and said firmly, "Leonard, we have to go to the mall."

"Sheldon, I'm not taking a detour to the mall," Leonard said.

"It's not a detour," Sheldon replied, "It's a mission. A very important mission."

"What mission would that be?"

"To find out who Amy is cheating on me with," Sheldon said.

* * *

Leonard had fumbled with the steering wheel so badly he almost took out a bicyclist. Eventually, after bickering for ten minutes over whether Leonard's swerving and other bad driving habits were caused by an inner ear problem or his narcissistic personality disorder, Leonard cut through the chatter to bring the conversation back on topic.

"She's not cheating on you," he said.

"She is," Sheldon replied.

"She isn't," Leonard said firmly. "She's not that type of girl."

"Despite what you sometimes posit, time and experience has proven that despite your proximity to your mother, her genius in neuroscience has not rubbed off on you, so I beg you to refrain from trying to diagnosis Amy Farrah Fowler's psychological make-up. Besides, if you believe that Amy isn't the type of girl to cheat, why are we currently approaching the mall?"

After a pause, Leonard said, "I don't know? I must be following the bro code."

Sheldon cast Leonard a withering glance. "Neither one of us has any idea what "bro code" means, but fine." He checked his phone again and said, "Park in the south lot – she's at Eddie Bauer." He frowned, and then he started shaking his head, "She's cheating on me with a man who likes to go camping. And wear windbreakers. And carry around his own toilet paper. And wears plaid flannel as day wear." He groaned out loud, "He sounds awful. What could Amy see in him? Leonard, how could she do this to me?"

"Don't you buy all of those sets of plaid pajamas from Eddie Bauer?" Leonard asked.

"I buy them from L.L. Bean," Sheldon snapped, turning on his friend, "the catalog! You know that!"

"Well, they sell them at Eddie Bauer, so maybe she's looking to buy you a new pair as a present," Leonard suggested hopefully.

Sheldon paused. "You mean…she might have been out of touch the past few days because she was so busy buying me presents?"

"Sure," Leonard answered.

"But it's not my birthday," Sheldon said.

"So, something else."

Sheldon thought for a moment and then shook his head, "It's not our anniversary."

"You guys have an anniversary? Like, a normal, once-a-year anniversary?"

"It's not date night either," Sheldon murmured as he completely ignored Leonard's last question. "But maybe she's just getting me a present because with my good looks, towering intellect, witty banter, and tender attentiveness, she simply wants to celebrate the fact that I am the perfect boyfriend."

Leonard furrowed his brow deeply and cut a long look at Sheldon out of the corner of his eyes. Sheldon reluctantly glanced back. Their eyes met, and after a pause Sheldon turned back to staring intensely down the road.

"Drive faster," he said.

* * *

Amy walked out of the Eddie Bauer as if she was floating on air, her hands full of colorful bags from various stores. She was distracted, and her eyes held a slightly far off, dreamy expression. Or they did, until she ran face first into the thin chest of a tall man planted firmly in her path. Bags were dropped, items spilled onto the floor, glasses went askew, and Amy nearly took a bite out of an orange Aquaman tee-shirt before tripping over her own feet and crashing right to the floor.

"Occam's Razor!" Amy swore, exclaiming hurriedly, "Oh, excuse me! I'm so sorry, I didn't see..." she finally fixed her glasses back on her face and happened to look upwards, her jaw dropping at the sight of the man towering over her. "Sheldon?"

"Amy," Sheldon replied coolly, his hands clasped behind his back. His expression turned haughty. "Where is he?"

"Where is who?" Amy asked, limbs still akimbo on the mall's marble floor, "What are you doing here?"

"Uncovering your nefarious web of lies, of course," Sheldon answered, "You know, if you're going to carry on an affair behind my back, you could at least pay me the courtesy of not checking into your illicit rendezvous points on Foursquare."

Leonard knelt down beside Amy. He picked up a grocery bag and began filling it with a tin of English tea that had rolled towards her toes. He picked up a package of milk chocolate Hob Nobs and put them back into another bag, glancing upwards at Sheldon once before reaching for the scattered scones and package of Walkers shortbread.

Amy fixed her boyfriend in a long, completely flummoxed stare. "Sheldon," she said, "What are you talking about?" She began to try to pull herself together.

"You haven't texted, you haven't tweeted!" Sheldon said, his cool demeanor starting to crumble. "I haven't even seen you in four days! You say you're 'really, really' busy, but you're just running errands for these things," he gestured curtly at her packages, "for your new boyfriend. Your new English boyfriend, by the looks of things. How could you cheat on me with a man who isn't even–" Sheldon suddenly let out a gasp, both hands flying up to clutch the sides of his head. "An English boyfriend. Of course. How could I be so stupid?" He looked around wildly, eyes unfocused, and then stumbled off towards the café next door. He dropped into a metal chair as if the life had suddenly been snapped out of him. "I've been so blind," he murmured, "But it all makes sense now."

Amy sprung to her feet and followed him.

Abandoned on the spot, Leonard kept himself busy by collecting all of Amy's bags, and then he stood there in the middle of the mall's corridor, looking self-consciously over his shoulder at the various onlookers and shoppers passing him by. He sighed, tilted his head back, and inquired of the domed ceiling, "Why me?"

* * *

Sheldon and Amy sat across from each other at the metal table, he draped despondently over his chair with a bereft expression on his face, she leaning towards him, her own expression alarmed and intent.

"Sheldon," Amy said, "You have to believe me. I am not cheating on you." After a pause she lowered her voice, "Please look at me."

The gangly scientist turned his eyes to the woman opposite him with an almost misty expression. He opened and closed his mouth several times, and finally was able to choke out, "I hope you'll be very happy." The tendons of his neck looked tense enough to snap, and he had gone even paler than usual. "All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy."

"Sheldon, I don't know what you think is going on–" Amy began.

"You're leaving me for Benedict Cumberbatch," Sheldon interjected. "That is what's going on."

Amy's eyes opened wide, and she gasped, "How do you know about–" she paused and then started to stammer as Sheldon groaned and buried his head in his hands, "I mean, it's not…I'm not…he's not…Wait! Sheldon, it's not what you think! Sheldon! Sit back down!"

Sheldon sank down again, but he couldn't look at her. He gazed into space, muttering, "Of all the men in the world to compete with, it would have to be Benedict Cumberbatch. How do you compete with Benedict Cumberbatch?" One hand curled into a fist, and he blurted out in a Texan drawl, "And of all the woman in the world, why did that low down English skillet of rattlesnakes have to chose mine! That Limey weasel is more slippery than a pocketful of pudding!" He banged his fist against the table and immediately cried out in pain, clutching his hurt hand to his chest. "Ow," he groaned, doubling over and resting his forehead on the cool surface of the table. "Do you see what you've done to me, Amy?"

Amy stared down at the back of Sheldon's head for a long moment. Finally she said, "Sheldon, I'm not having an affair with Benedict Cumberbatch. However–"

Sheldon groaned.

Amy went on, "_However,_ I am a huge fan of Sherlock Holmes, and became intrigued with Sherlock thanks to tumblr. So I bought the DVDs, and I admit that I have become very taken with him. It. Sherlock. The show." She closed her eyes, regrouped, and went on, "Tonight I'm going to watch the last two episodes, so…." Amy ducked her chin, looking self-conscious, "I just wanted to make it special. Like how you taught me to do."

Sheldon's head jerked up, and he stared at her with huge blue eyes. "What do you mean 'special' like I've taught you?"

Amy squirmed. "Like the time we watched Star Trek: The Next Generation together." She bit her lower lip, but finally looked him in the eye again. "When we dressed up in costume. I believe you refer to it as cosplay. But not exactly cosplay; I was just going to watch it with a British 'spirit,' if you will."

Sheldon simply stared at Amy for several seconds before demanding, "So you're not going to leave me for Benedict Cumberbatch?"

"No," Amy answered.

"You've become obsessed with Sherlock, the TV series?"

"Yes."

"And you're going to watch three hours of it tonight while wearing plaid pajamas, drinking tea, eating 'biscuits,' and all curled up on your couch by yourself?"

"While wearing my tiara, yes," Amy answered, drawing herself up aloofly, "In respect to the Queen, of course."

Sheldon stared hard at Amy for several heartbeats, and then said in an accusatory tone of voice, "And you didn't invite me?"

"It did not occur to me that you'd be interest–" Amy frowned, "Sheldon, where are you going? Wait!" She rose to follow him, but he simply took all of her bags from Leonard's arms in one fell swoop, turned, and thrust them firmly into her chest.

"Come, Leonard," Sheldon ordered imperiously, "Our mission continues." He turned and started striding down the mall's marble corridors, face set and determined.

"It does?" Leonard inquired, crinkling up his brow and looking between his two friends. "Sheldon, wait…damn it." Leonard turned back to Amy, his heart breaking a little as he looked at the teary green eyes of the strange brunette. "Amy, wait here, I'll go talk to him–"

"No," Amy said, clutching her crumpled bags to her chest, "Let him go." She sniffled, tried to suppress a small sob, and then scurried off in the opposite direction.

Leonard could hear her sniffles growing worse as she fled, and several patrons of the café looked up to note her teary face, and then turned to look at him with a certain amount of hostility. Leonard lifted his hands and said, "If you could simply understand the context," but the onlookers had simply snorted in derision, rolled their eyes, and looked away again.

Leonard sighed and turned on his heel, muttering darkly, "Why does no one care about context today?"

* * *

Amy set down a silver tray that held a simple white porcelain tea set. She sat dead center on her couch and curled her pale hands around her knees and surveyed her coffee table. She was dressed in her new plaid flannel pajamas–royal red, of course–and sitting before a beautiful spread of tea, biscuits, scones, shortbread, and even a skull she was borrowing from one of the skeletons at work just for the weekend. In the midst of it all sat a pile of DVDs with Benedict Cumberbatch's beautiful face staring up at her. She stared back at him, trying to recapture the magic of her little crush, but the image of Benedict's blue eyes became transposed with those of her own, very real, boyfriend.

Amy watched the steam twisting alluringly in the air as it rose from the spout of the teakettle, but her spirits sank in the opposite direction and her shoulders hunched over. She couldn't get Sheldon's face out of her head, and as she sat in the midst of the desolate ruins of her private party, she frowned to herself as she started to feel twinges of something stirring within her. She grabbed her cellphone, muttering to herself, "I am going to give that man a piece of my mind."

Even as she started typing, there came his signature knock on the door, and his voice calling her name.

"Even better," Amy said, tossing her phone aside. She stood swiftly to her feet and marched to the door, pulling herself up straight and proud, poised and ready. Amy flung open the door, fully ready to "bitch him out," as Penny would say, but the sight of him brought her up short.

Sheldon stood in her doorway, wearing a beige trench coast with the tags still hanging from the sleeves. Amy's eyes traveled over his attire, from the blue cashmere scarf was looped and secured Sherlock-style around his neck, to the trench coat and down to the cuffs of plaid pajamas hanging below its hem. She found herself blinking obtusely at a pair of leather slippers on his feet.

Sheldon cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to another. Amy looked over him again, noticing he had one hand clasped behind his back, and the air smelled like greasy French fries. His waxy features and blue eyes were fixed on her with such an intense expression that it made her weak at the knees, and all she had intended to say simply died on her lips. They stood staring at each other for a long moment before he spoke.

"Proposal," Sheldon said.

* * *

Clumsily, Amy shifted herself into Sheldon's arms, keeping her expression guarded and neutral as she felt his arm slip around her shoulders and adjust her against his chest until they were both comfortable. She allowed herself to tentatively recline into him, holding on tightly to her mug of tea. She felt the warmth in her fingertips rising up her arms and gripped it more tightly. She carefully rested her knees against the edge of his thigh, and studied the mismatch of her red plaid knees against his navy blue ones. She bit her lower lip, still determined not to show anything outwardly which might send the delicate conversation of the past thirty minutes back to the negotiation table.

Sheldon let out a deep breath, and very slowly relaxed into the depths of her couch. He used the remote in his free hand to bring up the DVD menu and made his selection.

"You're starting it on the first episode?" Amy asked.

"Of course, we have to go back to the beginning and do this properly," Sheldon replied.

After a pause, Amy's let a very faint smile play across her lips, and with a shrug she acquiesced. The show's theme music swelled and filled her small apartment, but just when Amy eagerly anticipated the opening dialogue, Sheldon pressed pause.

"I almost forgot," he said, reaching into a Burger King take-out bag he had placed by his feet. He pulled out a gold paper crown and settled it squarely on his head. He looked down to meet her eyes and said, "This is only an impromptu solution, but what do you think? Would the Queen approve?"

Amy gazed back into his eyes for a long moment, and then she pushed herself up just enough to place a soft, lingering kiss on his mouth. "She approves," she murmured, and then nestled her head on his shoulder.

Sheldon's cheeks turned red, and if she had been looking at him, Amy would have seen that he had an expression that suggested his heart had just been scooped out of his chest with a spoon. Yet he said nothing, simply pressed play on the remote and then placed it on her coffee table. He brought his other arm around, slowly and delicately wrapping his hand around her shoulder. With a wary expression, he looked down at the top of her shiny brown head, encircled with the ring of her diamond tiara. After a moment's reflection, he awkwardly nuzzled his nose against the softness of her hair, breathing in her scent before placing a timid kiss there.

With that, Sheldon tightened his grip, pulling in close the greatest mystery of his entire universe.

* * *

As ever, thanks for reading. - Lio


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